


Cruel To Be Kind

by Mackem



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Bondage, Gags, Light Bondage, M/M, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-26
Updated: 2012-09-26
Packaged: 2017-11-15 02:51:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/522327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mackem/pseuds/Mackem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik thinks Charles is working too hard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cruel To Be Kind

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by and encouraged shamelessly by [canistakahari](http://archiveofourown.org/users/canistakahari), who told me to write something inspired by [this gorgeous picture of McAvoy](http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y178/always_down/tumblr_lmyxmstZrt1qc9wnro1_500.jpg).

They had been seeking out another mutant, one who turned out to have been born into high society. Higher even than Charles, perhaps; they had found her at a charity gala in upstate New York, casually bidding thousands of dollars on a yacht while sipping champagne. Charles, naturally, had fit in to this company with ease, homing in on their potential ally wearing a stylish, impeccably tailored tuxedo. Erik had lurked in his wake, clinging to a drink as he fidgeted in a suit apparently once owned by Charles’ father.

“She’s not entirely certain what the cause is,” Charles had murmured beneath his breath as they watched the mutant discretely from the bar. “She is, however, _absolutely_ certain that she wants to impress that young man in the white jacket - please don‘t stare, Erik, it isn’t polite - while upsetting ‘daddy dear’.”

“She sounds delightful,” Erik had snorted in return. He had already dismissed this silly girl, with her scarlet lipstick painted on a fake smile, diamonds clasped to her ears and throat, and fluttering, blank eyes. Charles, ever the optimist, had insisted that they try their pitch nevertheless. Erik had left it to him.

His fingers had left marks scored in the steel rail of the bar as he watched security forcibly ‘escort’ Charles outside at the girl‘s order, mere minutes after he had made his approach. _Please don’t get involved!_ Charles had requested hastily within his mind, the dark swell of his anger no doubt obvious even above the roar of hundreds of other minds. Erik had conceded reluctantly and settled for snapping the vacuous mutant’s priceless necklace into several pieces from across the room as he left. Revenge of a sort, even if it fell short of his desires. 

He had found Charles seated on the pavement with spread legs, aiming a fond expression at him as Erik reached down and hauled him upright.

“I’ve never been thrown out of a hotel before,“ Charles had said in some bemusement as he fussily brushed himself down. Neither of them had mentioned the way Erik’s hand remained at his shoulder, nor the grateful smile Charles had aimed at him with his touch. “I suppose I’ve never been thrown out of _anywhere_ before.”

“Welcome to the lower classes,” Erik had said dryly, and handed him a stolen glass of whiskey to drain as they hailed a cab home.

***

Fruitless or otherwise, Erik could not honestly say the night had been a waste. Not when it meant the two of them had been able to spend time together, apart from their young wards. An evening alone with his friend, although useless to their cause, had nevertheless proven pleasant.

“You do suit a tuxedo so, Charles.” 

“I suppose you believe I was born wearing one?” Charles retorted easily as they crunched up his gravel drive. They had instructed the cab to drop them outside the grounds, both aware that the children had been training whilst they were gone and neither willing to risk anybody playing witness to potential carnage. Not that they lacked trust in their little darlings.

“Of course. I imagine your birth was an especially dignified affair. Did you join your father for cigars and brandy in the drawing room after you popped out?”

Charles’ laugh misted in the air, his cheeks flushed both by the cool breeze and the remnants of their hastily swallowed drinks. Glancing sidelong at him, Erik found himself glad that most of the lights within the mansion were out. Only those in Hank’s lab remained lit; he suspected the boy was more than likely too absorbed in his research to notice they had returned, let alone disturb them. 

Erik naturally followed Charles through the quiet house into his study, his presence unchallenged. Erik shrugged off his loaned jacket gratefully and watched Charles move to his desk rather than the drinks cabinet. Bending his slim form over the wood rather than settling into comfortable leather, Charles began to jot neat notes upon a sheaf of printed paper, and almost immediately set his pen aside to massage his temples. Erik raised an eyebrow.

“Tired?”

“Not at all. Merely a headache,” Charles corrected without taking his eyes from his papers. _Liar_ , thought Erik, feeling Charles’ distant dismissal without his friend needing to look up. It had been a long day, after all; Charles had trained personally with almost everybody in the house, not to mention putting that mind of his through its paces in Cerebro for far too long, before trooping into town on their mission. And yet even now, well into the evening, he was returning all too dutifully to his work.

Headache or otherwise, Charles soon retrieved his pen and his writing commenced once more. Erik took advantage of his distraction and poured himself a drink to sip as he thought. He watched Charles closely as he circled the room, taking in the tight, bunched muscles of his shoulders and back, the fretful motions of his pen, the lines etched into his forehead. He resolved to undo all of this before Charles wound himself yet more tightly.

“I mean what I say, you know.”

“Hmm?” Charles was distant, perhaps musing on their failure as he continued to scribble. Erik’s lips pursed as he sipped his scotch. 

“That you suit your tuxedo.”

“Oh? Thank you,” Charles murmured, and spared a glance over his shoulder. His hair fell naturally into his eyes, and he blinked through it, his eyes dreamy and detached despite the tension thrumming through him. Erik approached, draped his body close across Charles’ back and brushed it away as Charles chuckled. “Thank you again, Erik. I suppose you‘ll pout unless I return the sentiment?”

“I would rather you weren’t doing so for the sake of politeness?”

“Never,” Charles assured him. He straightened up, turned and fussed with the collar of Erik’s borrowed dress shirt. “You do scrub up well, you know,” he murmured as he deftly unfastened a couple of buttons, and did not yield for a second as Erik guided him up until their lips met.

They kissed for awhile, the details of the night forgotten. For now there was no failure, no empty-headed mutant girl calling loudly for Charles to be thrown out (nor scrabbling on the floor for her necklace with a squawk). There was only Charles and Erik, one dressed ridiculously, one dressed as he suited.

Erik grinned as Charles pulled away, hands rising to his tie. “Leave it.”

“Beg your pardon?”

“Leave it,” Erik suggested again, and walked Charles backwards with a hand pressed over the silken tie on his chest. “I like it.”

“It’s a little stifling,” Charles said mildly. His eyes darted from Erik’s to his papers on his desk as they walked past it, his attention only stolen back when Erik grasped his chin gently and turned his face up. Charles chuckled and stroked his fingers over the back of Erik’s hand apologetically. “Sorry, love. Can’t seem to think about anything other than our work.”

“You’re going to wear yourself out, Charles,” Erik muttered with a stroke of his cheek. “Is now really the time?” The other man hesitated, visibly torn, then aimed a soft smile up at him.

“I suppose it can wait, for a little while. What’s this about my tie, then?” he asked, his smile decidedly more naughty as Erik tugged at the garment in question. “You wouldn’t prefer me to get undressed?”

“No,” Erik said, his voice firm as he guided his friend through his own study. Charles laughed when the slick material of the curtains brushed against his hair. “I prefer that you remain as you are.”

“I am not willing to sleep in my suit, Erik,” Charles scoffed, shaking his head though his eyes sparkled mischievously. “As keen as I am to bend to your whims.”

“You do particularly suit bending for me,” Erik smirked, his smile growing as Charles dissolved into laughter. An idea struck him as he placed Charles in front of the lush, red material of the curtains, perfectly framed against them, and without hesitation he reached out to manipulate the metal tie backs. They wriggled beneath his influence, straightened out, and shot unerringly around Charles’ wrists.

“Erik!” Charles half-laughed as the metal wrapped around his pale flesh securely, leaving not the slightest inch of space for him to wriggle free. He tugged nevertheless, pink blooming in his cheeks as he wrenched fruitlessly.

“Yes?” Erik watched, eyes fixed on his friend. Charles _did_ put on a delicious show. He guided the bonds back, settling Charles’ wrists a little way behind his body as his shoulders set proudly.

“I suppose this is where I demand you unhand me? Play your damsel in distress?”

“Not damsel,” Erik corrected, moving closer as he stroked Charles’ flushed cheek, their eyes fixed. “Never damsel.”

“Quite. Nevertheless, are you hoping I will beg for my release? Oh, your smutty mind,” Charles sighed as Erik smirked, and perhaps somebody who did not know him inside and out would miss the filthy glint in his eye behind his supposed innocence.

“I hope only that you will be yourself,” Erik shrugged fluidly, tangling his fingers in the soft, ruffled hair. He spread Charles’ legs with the insistent press of his thigh, gratified when he felt his friend rock against him with a groan. They moved slowly together for long, heated moments, hips rutting together as they kissed languidly, both feeling the long day melting away. 

After awhile Erik leaned back, grinning as Charles moved onto his tiptoes in an attempt to reclaim his lips, and chuckled when he huffed in frustration. “You know, Charles, you make quite the feature.”

“Pardon?” Charles did indeed suit confusion, especially when he was so delectably ruffled with lips swollen and reddened.

“Your study is so _dull_ , Charles. You liven it up so,” Erik teased, making a show of moving around to room to inspect him from different angles as he squirmed. “You make an attractive centre point. I find my eye drawn to you.”

“I am not a vase, Erik,” Charles scoffed, and yet he preened in the heat of Erik’s gaze. “I don’t come here to provide decoration. I come here to work,” he said pointedly, nodding at his desk.

“It is _much_ too late for that,” Erik said dismissively as he moved to block the abandoned papers from Charles’ eyes. “And you are much too pretty like this. You must resign yourself to it, Charles. For the moment, you are art.”

“To be studied? Admired from afar?” Charles asked, an eyebrow raised as he watched Erik return. Erik snorted and allowed his hands to play once more with that irresistible hair.

“I believe you are best suited to being an interactive exhibit. You’re modern art.”

“And yet you say I’m terribly old-fashioned,” Charles huffed, all while leaning easily into Erik’s touch.

“I’m doing my best to bring you up to date,” laughed Erik softly. He nuzzled his nose against Charles’ hair, breathing in his warm, smoky scent. “Your students will appreciate it.”

“Should you ever deign to release me.”

“Eventually,” Erik promised just before their lips met. He gently guided the wrapped metal further back as they kissed; swallowed his friend’s content sigh as their hips met again, rocking instinctively at the touch of firm, heated flesh through cloth. “You see? You _like_ being arranged for me.”

“Agreed, temporarily. Being described as part of the fixtures, however,” Charles attempted to look disapproving, “Is less desirable. At the very least, I would be a most distracting addition to _any_ study. And I really must finish my notes tonight, you know,” he added meaningfully.

“You _are_ hard to ignore,” Erik mused, deliberately focussing on the thought that most appealed to him. Evidently Charles was determined that the work be finished tonight. Leaving it unfinished would only put more pressure on him tomorrow, and Erik would not be responsible for Charles’ eventual breakdown. He grinned suddenly as an idea struck him. “The notes must be finished tonight?”

“If we are to proceed with our work tomorrow. Erik, I don’t trust that smile,” Charles murmured with a frown. He shifted awkwardly, wrists twisting as he produced an expression equally long-suffering and pleading. “Have your fun - _our_ fun - and then let me work.”

“I am just as capable as you are of writing notes,” Erik said firmly, and reached out to take the twisted, silken cord hanging from the curtains in hand. “Now open wide.”

“What? Erik -” Charles said around a laugh, and his face as Erik pushed the thick cord into his mouth was adorably outraged. He wrapped the cord around his head, knotting it neatly as Charles protested inside his mind. _You think it’s so easy to silence a telepath? You are ridiculous._

“And you work too hard,” Erik reminded him with a light tap on his nose. Charles snuffled instinctively, and scowled. “Why, Charles, I had no idea you knew that kind of language!” Erik laughed as the monologue within his head branched out to inventive, sputtered cursing. “You’ll thank me in the morning.”

_When I’m allowed to go free?_

“Oh, come now, you think me so cruel? You’ll be allowed free when I’ve finished your notes,” Erik murmured easily. He brushed his fingertips over Charles’ trapped prick, delighted in the needy whine he produced, and guided his trousers open. He found himself unable to resist bending to drag his tongue over the hard flesh, relishing the taste with the sound of Charles pleading within his head.

Erik reached out mentally for something suitable, found a smooth, steel paperweight on Charles’ desk and brought it to his hand. His eyes closed as he concentrated, working the shape with his hands and that hidden part of himself, moulding it into a delicate ring. His eyes opened to see Charles watching him - not warily, not with fear, but with twined curiosity and trust. Something within his stomach bloomed, and Erik could not stop the smile that crept onto his face.

Charles sighed shakily through his nose as Erik fisted his length firmly, then those beautiful eyes widened as the ring floated closer, slid over his flushed prick, and tightened gently around the base at Erik’s desire.

_And you claim not to be cruel?_

“You seem quite delighted with the situation as far as I can see,” Erik laughed fondly. He carefully guided Charles’ leaking prick back into his underwear and fastened his pants, smiling at the sight of Charles wriggling his hips with a desperate whine. He slid his arms around his friend, stroking his shoulders, his back, massaging the tense muscles of his neck as Charles leaned into every touch. Blue eyes blinked, pupils blown wide, when Erik kissed his forehead tenderly. “Now hush, Charles. Perhaps you will learn that you are allowed to focus on yourself a little, tonight.” He gave him a tender pat on the backside as he moved away with a fond grin, retrieving Charles’ pen from his desk.

“Now be good and keep quiet while I finish your work, and,” Erik said with a wolfish smile, “Perhaps you will make it out of your tuxedo before the night is over. Perhaps.”


End file.
